The Chivalry of Love
by ConfoederatioHelvetica
Summary: You're a princess, trapped in a besieged castle. It's only a matter of time before they take the walls, and then you're done for. But then something unimaginable happens... ReaderxSwitzerland one-shot.


**This is something I did on request for ShunKazamis-Girl. I never wrote a ReaderxCharacter story before, and this is what it turned out to be.**

**I hope you will enjoy it.**

* * *

You watch from your tower room as the sun rises over the valley. You knew this day would come, as it was happening all over, and no one, no one is safe. You can see the guards on the battlements below, rushing back and forth, preparing themselves for the onslaught. And as the rays of the rising sun slowly begin to illuminate the scene, and you see the enemy for the first time. There they are, the barbarians. They built a little camp, having arrived under the cover of darkness the previous night. And they are preparing for an assault, and nothing would stop them. Every tower, every castle, every fortress had fallen to them until now, and its inhabitants had all been butchered, save for the children, and the servants. It seemed as though they were selective in whom they cut to pieces. You would be on the line for sure. You sit on a little stool, dressed in the most delicate finery that your wardrobe has to offer. Your family jewels hang about your neck. Yes, you will show them how a proper princess dies; you will hold your head up high, as the blows fall and shatter your beautiful body, and if they try to have their way with you first, then…well, you will not stand for such disgrace! You check in your sleeve to see if it's still there. It is, the small glass vial full of poison. In an emergency you could slip it into your mouth, and bite on it, then swallow its contents.

You awaken from a slight doze, as you hear shouting from below, and you peek out over the window sill. The rebels were attacking, but they are clever. They didn't storm at the walls immediately, no, they had fired arrows into the castle, setting thatched roofs on fire, and distracting the guards.

_Cowardly _you think

Faced with either death by fire, or death by incoming attackers, the guards are in panic. Some grab buckets, and try their best to extinguish the flames that spread too quickly to contain. You choke, as smoke drifts up into the tower where you sit, and it blocks your view of the siege. You just manage to see that the rebels were scaling the walls with ladders, and that the castle doors were being battered down. You stand up, and hasten to the winding staircase, in desperate need of air. You run down the stone steps, as quickly as your long gown would allow, cursing as it catches on a protruding nail and tears. You reach the main hall; at least this is not yet on fire. You head outside to a balcony overlooking the courtyard, just in time to witness disaster. The guards are being overrun, the attackers, unarmored and with poor weapons, overpower the defenders easily by sheer number and ferocity. You know that at this moment everything is lost.

One man in particular catches your eye. He is at the very front, fighting three at once. He twirls his large halberd, an axe-like weapon with a hook and a spike on the end, about him as if it were weightless, his chin-length blond hair swinging this way and that, as he parries and attacks. You don't know what it is, but you feel admiration for him, but dispel that feeling quickly.

_He is nothing but a dirty peasant_.

But if you had to choose to die at somebody's hand, you'd choose him. That you know. He seems so different from all the men around him.

Then he notices you staring at him, and looks up. For a moment you stare into his eyes, and you see that behind his unkempt hair, even though his face is spattered with little droplets of blood, his green eyes, which had previously been so full of anger, reflect…concern?

You back away, and flee back up into your tower room as fast as your feet and carry you, almost slipping and falling back down again. Finally in your room, you slam the oak door and lock it. No one will be able to get to you now, not even the man with the blond hair. They don't know you were hiding up here.

No one knows you were hiding up here.

You realize the flaw in your plan as smoke begins to drift into the room, leaking in from under the door. They had set the main hall on fire! And you are trapped. Locked in, unable to escape. If the smoke doesn't kill you, then the fire will. You cough and splutter, as you stumble to the window, gasping for air, trying to call for help, but it's hopeless.

No one can hear me you think, as you watch the flames burn higher and higher, licking at the walls of the tower.

So this is your end.

You curl up on the floor, and try to come to terms with the fact that you're about to die.

But then there's shouting from somewhere, and a loud crash. You look to the door, and you see that someone is beating against it from the outside with a very heavy object. The wood splinters, and the door bursts out of its hinges. Through the smoke, you see the blond-haired man standing there, holding his halberd.

He strides over to you, a cloth covering his mouth, and kneels down beside you.

"Hey! Hey Lady! Are you okay?"

Even though smoke fills your lungs, and your eyes water from the stinging, you somehow manage to nod.

He looks reassured, puts the halberd into a holster on his back, and then lifts you up. You don't object. His strong grip feels so secure. He has come to rescue you, your savior. He isn't a savage...he was more.

The heat in the tower is unbearable, but he presses on, undaunted by the smoke or the fire. You arrive in the main hall, ablaze with an inferno like you've never seen before. There's no way out, now you're both trapped, and will burn to death. He will pay for his life for his gallantry.

But to your surprise, he only pauses a moment, before he runs off, dodging burning pillars and falling pieces of debris. There is a groan from overhead, and you look up to see a strut giving way.

You want to cry 'Look out!' but no words escape your lips. He realizes the danger, and jumps out of the way as the large wooden beam hits the floor where both of you were just moments before. You would have both been crushed if he hadn't reacted fast enough.

Your admiration for this man grows. Not only is he an excellent fighter, but contrary to his small stature he was strong, and agile even though he is carrying you. Who is this stranger who would risk his own life for you, someone he shouldn't care about?

Then you're outside, and fresh air fills your lungs, again your eyes water, but from happiness and relief. You cling tighter to your savior, and whisper to him.

"Thank you"

Though you're not sure if he heard you, because he doesn't respond. Most of the horses have fled, but he manages to get hold of one, and calms it down enough to allow you to mount it. He gets into the saddle in front of you.

"Hold on tight" he advises you.

You obey, putting your hands around his chest, feeling lean muscle through the rough cloth he's wearing, and you lay your head on his back, grateful to him.

He spurs the horse, and soon you have left the burning castle far behind you. When you look back, you see a plume of smoke rising from the ruin of what was considered a bastion no one could take, now reduced to rubble and cinders. You don't care anymore, even though all you loved and revered on your life was now gone, burnt and lost. Together you travel through the countryside, past fields, forests, farm houses; you lose your sense of time as euphoria grips you.

Presently you come to a lake, and he stops.

"What is it? " You ask him confused.

He points with his left hand, and you follow his gaze. There is a castle in the distance, not like the one you left; this one is intact, standing proud and firm on the lakeside.

"This is the border. Over there you'll find people who'll take care of you. You can return to your own."

Suddenly you forget your gratefulness to him, you can return to your comfortable life at court, and leave this barbarous country behind you. Soon you'll be able to get a bath to wash the stink of smoke away, and a new dress, and maids who will attend to you!

You hatch a daring plan, and before he can react, you push the man out of his saddle, take the reins and spur off in the direction of the castle.

He doesn't shout after you. He doesn't run after you. When you look back, you just see him lying there in the dust of the road, looking at you with an expressionless face, as if he had expected you to do something like this.

You slow down.

_Is this really what I want?_ You think

You would get all the luxuries, but you would be trapped, constricted for the rest of your life, unable to breathe, unable to move for the rest of your life. A feeling of nausea grips you as you remember the feeling in the tower. That was your whole life all along. And then the door being battered down by a brave knight, come to save you from a miserable death, come to free you and allow you to breathe again.

You stop, as you realize that you never want to go back to that tower again. You don't want to be constricted, you want to be free.

You turn the horse around, and ride back to the man, still stretched out on the road. But as you approach him, his face shows puzzlement.

"You…you came back?" he asks you.

You smile, and slide off the horse.

"B-but why?"

You kneel down next to him, and take his face in your hands.

"Because of you" you whisper to him, and kiss him. Your lips touch, and you feel that this was meant to be, that this was right. He didn't refuse; he gives in to you, and then returns the kiss, more vigorously.

Before you know it, you're on top of him, ripping his tunic open, revealing his bare chest. It looks just like it felt, strong. No wonder he was able to lift you up. You kiss again, and his hands start to fumble with the back of your dress, unlacing it, but delicately.

_The dress is ripped anyway_ you think.

You take the work away from him, by grasping the cloth at your shoulders and sliding it off. Then you kiss again, more vigorously than even before. When you stop to take in a sharp breath, you ask him, gasping for air as excitement ripples through you.

"What's your name?"

"What does that matter?" he asks, kissing your neck.

You moan with pleasure.

"I just want to know…"

"It's Vash" he says "Vash Zwingli"


End file.
